The billionaire mafia bride

The rain had been falling for three hours when Serena Valenti realized her father was afraid. Not angry. Not irritated. Afraid. She stood at the entrance of the study, one hand still wrapped around the door handle, watching Vittorio Valenti pace behind his enormous mahogany desk. Her father had always been a man who made other people tremble. Tonight, his hands were shaking. “Father?” He stopped. For several seconds, he didn't turn around. Serena's heart tightened. “What happened?” “Go upstairs.” His voice was unusually quiet. She stepped into the room instead. “I heard shouting downstairs.” “There is nothing you need to worry about.” “You're lying.” Vittorio finally looked at her. Serena had never seen that expression on his face before. Fear. Raw, unmistakable fear. “Serena,” he said slowly, “you need to pack a bag.” Her brows pulled together. “Why?” “Because you're leaving tonight.” The thunder outside seemed to shake the windows. Serena stared at him. “Leaving where?” Before her father could answer, the sound of several cars pulling into the driveway echoed through the mansion. Her father's face went pale. “No…” Serena turned toward the window. Three black cars had stopped outside the gates. Men in dark suits stepped out. They weren't police. They moved too calmly for that. Too confidently. One man opened the rear door of the middle car. A tall figure emerged. Even from the second floor, Serena could feel the man's presence. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his dark hair slicked back, his expression cold enough to freeze the rain around him. Her father whispered a name. “Dante Moretti.” Serena's stomach dropped. Everyone in the city knew that name. Dante Moretti was a billionaire businessman whose companies owned hotels, nightclubs, shipping firms, and half a dozen other legitimate businesses. But behind the wealth was another empire. The Moretti family controlled the city's most powerful criminal organization. And Dante was its king. “What does he want?” Serena whispered. Her father didn't answer. A loud knock echoed through the mansion. Once. Twice. Then the front doors opened. Serena looked at her father. “You invited him?” “No.” The color drained from his face. “He doesn't need an invitation.” Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Slow. Measured. Getting closer. Vittorio grabbed Serena's wrist. “Listen to me carefully.” “Father, you're hurting me.” “If he asks for you, you say nothing.” Serena's eyes widened. “What?” “You say nothing. You don't argue. You don't provoke him.” “Why would he ask for me?” Her father looked away. That was when Serena understood. This wasn't about money. It was about her. The study door opened. Two men entered first. Then Dante Moretti walked in. Up close, he was even more intimidating. He didn't look angry. That was the frightening part. His eyes moved from Vittorio to Serena. And stopped. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Dante's gaze remained fixed on her. Serena forced herself not to look away. “Mr. Valenti,” Dante said. Vittorio swallowed. “Dante.” “I believe you know why I'm here.” “I can pay you.” A faint smile touched Dante's lips. “No, you can't.” “I just need more time.” “You've had three years.” “I can get the money.” “You've already said that.” Dante took another step into the room. Then he looked at Serena again. “And now you've run out of time.” Serena's pulse raced. “What is he talking about, Father?” Vittorio remained silent. Dante answered for him. “Your father owes my family a considerable debt.” Serena looked at her father. “How much?” Dante's expression didn't change. “Enough to buy this house.” Serena's voice trembled. “Then take the house.” “I don't want the house.” “The cars?” “No.” “His businesses?” Dante shook his head. “I already own most of them.” Silence filled the room. Serena slowly stepped backward. “What do you want?” Dante's eyes locked onto hers. “You.” Her breath caught. “What?” “Your father made a deal with me.” Vittorio's voice cracked. “Dante, please.” Dante ignored him. “He promised me something of equal value if he failed to repay what he owed.” Serena looked at her father in disbelief. “What did you promise him?” Vittorio couldn't meet her eyes. Dante answered. “Your hand in marriage.” Serena felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath her. “No.” Her father finally looked at her. “Serena…” “No.” She backed away. “You wouldn't do that.” “I had no choice.” “You're my father!” “I was trying to protect you!” “By selling me?” The words echoed through the room. Vittorio flinched. Dante remained completely still. Serena's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. “I won't marry him.” Dante's voice was calm. “You will.” She turned toward him. “You can't force me.” “I can.” “I'm not a possession.” “No.” His gaze darkened. “You're something far more valuable.” Serena's heart pounded. “What does that mean?” Dante walked toward her until only a few feet separated them. “I didn't come here tonight to collect your father's money.” He lowered his voice. “I came to collect his promise.” Serena stared into his cold eyes. There was something behind them. Something darker than anger. Something personal. “Why me?” she whispered. For the first time, Dante's expression changed. Hatred flashed across his face. Then it disappeared. “Because your family took something from mine.” Serena frowned. “What?” Dante leaned closer. “Your father knows exactly what I'm talking about.” She turned toward Vittorio. “Father?” He said nothing. Dante straightened. “Prepare yourself, Serena.” “For what?” “For becoming my wife.” Her heart shattered. Outside, lightning tore across the sky. And somewhere in the darkness beyond the mansion gates, another car arrived. Inside it sat a man who had been waiting years for this exact moment. Because Dante Moretti wasn't the only one who wanted Serena Valenti. And by morning, Serena would discover that her forced marriage was only the beginning.